


Bestrafe Mich

by queerinthenorth



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Self-Flagellation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 04:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerinthenorth/pseuds/queerinthenorth
Summary: re-uploaded bc Ao3 is a cowardbtw: you can find me over at aestheticallycatholic.tumblr.com





	Bestrafe Mich

_ Bestrafe mich _

_ Bestrafe mich _

 

Till’s mind turned over the words, reflecting on them as though they were a confusing riddle rather than his own words, his own desires, put into physical form.

Every time he sat in the studio, listening to that song over and over, changing it ever so slightly here and there, he thought about deleting it completely.

Just letting it die in a hard drive somewhere instead of ever seeing the light of day.

He wondered if it was too much.

If it would scare off what few fans they had.

_ Would they still want me if they knew? _

_ If they knew that I crave nothing more than to be beaten into submission? _

He thought to himself, his finger lingering over the delete button, but never actually pressing it because even though it scared him to expose his deepest desires like this, it scared him even more to risk losing his band over deleting a track.

 

Till had a few drinks while editing, eventually stumbling out of the studio and into a cab that took him back to his apartment.

He tried to open the door, drunken hands fumbling with the key and dropping it several times, causing Till to curse under his breath until he finally got the key in and let himself in.

 

He shut the door behind him and stumbled into the bedroom, almost running into the door frame, and running his hand along the wall, feeling for the light switch.

When the switch was flipped, the slowly dying lightbulb cast a flickering amber light across the room, the light reflecting off the desk in the corner and the metal of Till’s bed frame.

 

But the light caught onto something specific, gently reminding Till of its presence.

 

The light reflected off a small pile of leather sitting on Till's bed.

A cat o’ nine tails whip Till had bought himself while writing Sehnsucht, but the track Bestrafe Mich in particular.

_ It can't hurt that badly, can it? _

_ Oh it’ll be fine. _

_ It might even be a little fun. _

_ If nothing else, it’ll make a good gag gift later on. _

He thought to himself on the night he bought it, large hands delicately feeling the supple leather of each tail, before settling on one in particular.

A particularly nasty one, it was easily the heaviest, and packed a punch that would take even the most masochistic person’s breath away.

 

Till pulled off his shirt, breath getting heavy as he caught sight of the whip on his bed.

He picked the whip up off his bed, and almost moaned at the weight of it in his hand.

 

Till sat down, his stomach forming the little fat rolls he had picked up since he stopped swimming, and took a moment to think.

_ Maybe I shouldn't do this _

_ Maybe this is a bad idea. _

He ultimately went against his better judgement, switching the whip over to his dominant hand, and pulled his arm back a fair amount before striking himself on the left side of his stomach with the whip.

 

As the snap of the leather against his bare flesh rang through the room, he moaned at the slight sting it elicited.

 

After that first hit, he let loose a volley of hits, most on his side, but eventually moving over to the center of his stomach and slowly moving upwards.

 

As the hits got harder and more frequent, Till moaned softly at first, but slowly got louder.

He stopped to let his arm rest, and to catch his breath but he noticed something that prevented him from just going to bed.

 

He was harder than he had ever been.

 

Till undid his pants, moaning as the cool air softly stroked his aching cock.

He took his cock in hand and slowly moved, not wanting to come all at once, but wanting to enjoy it.

 

Till moved his hand faster, moaning as he felt the pain left behind by the whip.

He stopped just before he came, giving himself a moment to retreat from the brink before going at it again, bringing himself to the edge, over and over, but always stopping just short of coming.

 

Till moved his hand faster, before burying his face in his arm, and muffling his own cries of ecstasy as he came all over his stomach and hand.

 

He attempted to walk to the bathroom before falling back on his bed because his legs refused to support him in his quest to clean up.

_ I’ll deal with it in the morning. _

He thought to himself, burying his face in the pillow and letting himself drift off to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> re-uploaded bc Ao3 is a coward  
> btw: you can find me over at aestheticallycatholic.tumblr.com


End file.
